


The Exchange

by DaftHappiness



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:04:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaftHappiness/pseuds/DaftHappiness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader has been dragged out to a club against her will by a friend, and when she tries to find her way home alone, she ends up meeting a strange freckled boy in a back alley offering her a ride home in his friend's car. </p><p>His friend, however, asks for a small favor in return, and from there, the seeds of a strange friendship are left to bloom.</p><p>(Vampire!Marco, Vampire!Jean)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Exchange

Tonight was an absolutely shitty night.

Not only did my best friend drag me out with her and her boyfriend to be their third wheel yet again to a place I had no interest in going to, not only did the Snickers bar I picked up to cheer myself up have rotten peanuts inside, and not only was there terrible country music playing over the sound system inside, but as I stepped out the backdoor to grab some fresh air from the stuffy and overly-populated environment, I realized the door had locked behind me, it was raining, and there was now a line to get into the building that I was not allowed to cut through even though I'd already been through it. I'd already tried calling my friend to tell her let me back in at least four times, but it seemed the horrible twang of the guitar and sincere lyrics concerning achy-breaky hearts must have been too loud for her to hear her damn phone ring. Out of anymore ideas, I started walking to the nearest bus stop. It probably wasn't the smartest idea, being alone in the middle of the city at night, but what other choice did I have at that point? I could have waited in line to get back in but honestly getting stabbed in the back sounded like more fun.

Ok, well, almost.

See, the thing about wishing you would spontaneously meet up with a serial killer in an alleyway is that it always seems like a preferable option until you're actually wandering around lost in the dark center of the city as the minutes ticked over into the morning hours, which is precisely where I found myself shortly thereafter my decision to set off on my own in order to find a bus station. Thanks to my apparent lack of directional competence, it wasn't long before I was rapidly walking down a poorly lit (and frankly overall sketchy looking) street, head whipping around in all directions in an attempt to find something, ANYTHING, that looked familiar, all the while speeding along with an impending anxiety attack hot on my heels. And it wasn't long after that before I noticed my anxiety wasn't the only thing soon to catch up with me; out of the corner of my eye I kept seeing flashes of shadow across the sidewalk or brick walls. What looked to be a relatively large figure (at least in comparison to my small stature) seemed to be following along in my footsteps for at least a couple blocks, and when I briefly saw in the dim reflection of a glass storefront the black figure approaching me quickly from behind, that's when I broke into an all-out sprint. 

I wasn't concerned with getting anywhere in particular anymore, just trying to get the hell out of that place and away from whoever was trailing along behind me. I took every turn I could, hopping over garbage bags and piled up crates all the while, doing whatever I could to loose them. I was doing very well for myself for quite some time before I skidded to a halt in front of a chain-link fence that stood between me and my chosen escape route.

With my escape route successfully closed off and legs shaking from exhaustion and breathing labored, my only option left was to face my pursuer and hope there was some way to distract them long enough to slip by. However, as soon as they began approaching, the panic that had been gathering in my chest finally bubbled up and tore itself from my throat in the form of a sob. It was only then that I realized tears were streaming down my cheeks.

"Are...are you crying?" A voice came out from the figure as they stepped just far enough forward that the streetlight behind me illuminated their face. A boy- probably not older than 17- stood before me, face freckled and eyebrows pulled down in a look of concern.

The only response I could manage was another strangled cry.

"Oh, gosh, please... Please don't cry. I won't hurt you, I...I promise I won't hurt you." His hands were facing up in a gesture of surrender, talking small, calculated steps towards me. Despite his words, however, I still stepped back until I could feel my spine pressed against the cool metal fence. Noticing this, he tried again, "I'm sorry I scared you, I didn't mean to. My name is Marco, and I just noticed you looking lost and... Do you need help?"

It was probably insanely stupid to trust him, a boy I had met in a back alley who'd been following me around all night, but I did trust him. Maybe it was the sincerity of his voice, or the worried look in his eye, but something in my gut told me this boy-Marco- wouldn't hurt me.

"I-I'm (y/n.)" I finally sputtered out. "And I, uh, yeah I'm lost."

Marco's face brightened considerably once he found me to be responsive. With a smile on his lips, he held an arm out for me to take, "I have a friend who's out on a food run right now, I can call him and we could give you a ride to wherever you need to be? I'm sure you're more than aware of how dangerous it is out here, and I can't let you go off alone in good conscience." 

I took his arm, flashing him a grateful smile, "That would be lovely, thank you Marco."

"One second." He said, pulling a phone out of his pocket and tapping the glowing screen a few times before putting it to his ear. "Hey, Jean, pick me up? ...well, no, but... Something came up. You'll see. ...Cool, see you soon." He looked disgruntled when he hit the end button, but the slight frown disappeared when he looked back down at me, "he said he was alright around the corner, we should see him in a minute or so."

"You didn't mention me." I said as he started pulling me back towards the road, confused.

"Hm?" He hummed.

"You didn't mention me to your friend, like taking me home and stuff." I clarified.

"Oh, yeah, well, he probably would have said no if I asked over the phone. He's not the most charitable person until someone in need is right in front of him. He likes to put up a tough front but he really is a softie, no matter what he says he won't mind helping you out."

"I see."

"I'm just warning you though, he might be a little nasty when I first introduce you. It's just how he is, but he-"

Marco's words were cut off by a car screeching to a halt before us in the mouth if the alleyway. The driver's side door popped open and a decently dressed man stepped out, wearing sun glasses even though it was the middle of the night and a muffin top haircut in two-toned color. He looked like a tool.

"Oh, I see. You want take out instead?" He said with a grin, winking at me. My face flushed in response to the innuendo.

"No, Jean." Marco replied, rolling his eyes. "This is (y/n), she's lost and alone and we are going to escort her back home."

Jean's smirk slipped off his features, settling into a slight frown. "So you have zero intentions of feeding?"

Marco shook his head, "That can wait."

"You said that last time, Marco." Jean snapped back, "You can't keep denying yourself sustenance just because you have an over-active sense of empathy. You need to eat, and this is the perfect time."

"I don't mind waiting for you to stop for food." I said quietly, shuffling my feet while trying hard not to look directly at Jean's face. "No one is up waiting for me."

Jean seemed to ignored me entirely, temper rising for unknown reasons "Ugh, she's perfect! Lost, confused, and no one is expecting her. She's basically been delivered to you on a silver plater and you're passing it up. I can't believe you."

"Jean, can we please not discuss this in front of her? You're going to scare h-"

"No, Marco." Jean cut him off quickly, grabbing at my wrist and pulling me from Marco's side and into his arms. A split second before my chest collided with his, another hand was placed on my waist and spun me around so rapidly I wasn't sure what I was looking at until my eyes met Marco's. One of Jean's arms was held tight around my waist, arms and all, to prevent any movement, while the other brushed my collarbone, sweeping my hair to the side and causing a shiver to work its way up my spine. "Look, we can do this the easy was or the hard way. The fact of the matter is that regardless who you pick, they're going to get scared. Assaulting someone for the purpose of drinking their blood isn't exactly something people jump at the chance to experience, but this girl here can live without a pint or two of her blood. She's designed for that, her body will make more. You, on the other hand, aren't going to last much longer without it, and I'm not going to let you die because of your intensive empathy."

My head was spinning at that point, and not only because I'd been pulled, spun, and restrained all in a matter of seconds. It's because the two men who stood directly before and behind me were calmly discussing the possibility of drinking my blood, and of all the things I had imagined happening to me in a dark ally in the middle of town on a Saturday night, that was surprisingly not one of them.

"This is unnecessary." Marco said, slowly taking a step towards Jean and I, "We'll find someone else, but she's had enough to deal with tonight aside from this, let's just take her home and we can talk about this later-"

I felt a quick sharp tug across my collar bone, followed by an unpleasant stinging sensation that I didn't have time to question before Marco let out a sudden hiss- a real, cat-like hiss- and stopped his advances. I was vaguely aware of the warm liquid slowly rolling across my skin and soaking into my shirt collar, but frankly that was not the most pressing of matters at the moment.

Across from me, Marco's lips curled back from his teeth in a sort of snarl as he glared up at Jean, the lifted lips revealing two incisors that seemed I have grown three times as long as they were previously, now suddenly long enough to press into his lower lip even as his mouth was open.

"A vampire." I whispered, somewhat in awe. Marco was a vampire. As frightening as the revelation was, at least things made a little more sense now.

In fact, I was actually considerably less frightened now that I knew. As backwards as that sounded it was true, because based on the conversation I had been listening to, despite Marco's apparent vampirism, he was vehemently against the idea of drinking my blood. Even as his fangs emerged, he still refused to approach the spot where Jean held me, which was strangely comforting.

But a problem still remained.

"Come on Marco-"

"Hey!" I interrupted, "doesn't anyone care how I feel about this?"

Both boys watched me in stunned silence.

"Marco?" I addressed him tentatively.

Marco's hardened gaze softened considerably as he looked from Jean's face to my own, before abruptly looking away with something like shame coloring his features.

"Jean said you'll die if you don't...feed.... Is that true?"

"Yes." Jean answered behind me, the vibrations of the words in his chest pulsing into my back, "vampires are technically dead, their blood cells are congealed and stiff, they can't carry oxygen necessary to muscles for them to move. To make up for this, vampires can feed on human blood; since deoxygenated blood takes up half the space of oxygenated blood, there's room for them to take in live human blood that will do the job of carrying oxygen to muscles for them for a period of time. However, since vampires aren't alive, the cells will eventually die, which is why they must feed every few day, depending on the amount of blood drawn, to replenish it. That's why they continue to feed. A good meal will last only a week or so before they need to hunt again."

Everyone was silent then, assumably because we were all coming to the same conclusion: like it or not, Marco needed my blood or he would suffocate.

"Marco?" I said quietly, drawing his gaze, "You can take my blood."

His eyes widened, "What?"

"You'll die if you don't, right? You're a good person, even if you are a vampire, you don't deserve to die. So you can take my blood, it's okay. Besides," I continued with a wry smile, "I don't have any gas money to pay you with for driving me home."

"(Y/n)," Marco started, his tongue maneuvering skillfully around his fangs so that they didn't inhibit his speech. "You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I want to. You helped me out, let me do the same for you."

He looked hesitant still, but approached me nonetheless. As he drew near, Jean's arm retracted from around my waist, and his presence behind me receded. It wasn't until Marco was right in front of me that he spoke again, "You're sure about this?"

I tried to smile, "Yeah. Go ahead."

Marco rested his hands on my shoulders, "I'll try to make it hurt as little as possible."

I nodded tersely, to signify that I was ready, and Marco dipped his head down below mine. A soft, warm pressure appeared against my neck- his lips, I presumed- a quick press just below the hinge of my jaw, then again, slightly lower down. One after another, a slew of gossamer kisses were pressed my skin, traveling ever-lower. I couldn't stop the furious blush that rushed to my cheeks as a result, but something told me that was what he wanted, as I could distinctly hear my own heartbeat amplified in my ears. It wasn't long before the trailing warmth stopped somewhere just above the hollow of my collarbone, and that's when I felt the gentle scrape of his fangs against my skin. It was merely a brush, not enough to draw blood, but a shiver ran under my skin with just the idea of what was about to occur. Marco's hands firmly pressed down on me to hold me steady, and I tried to brace myself.

But how prepared can you really be for the sensation of someone stabbing a couple needles into your neck?

A scream tore it's way from my throat before I could stifle it, my body instinctively trying to move away from the source of the pain, but Marco's hands pressed hard and firm down on my shoulders to hold me securely in place. Once the initial rush of pain passed, however, I began to settle down slightly as the sharp, piercing feeling faded into and uncomfortable, pulsating throb. It wasn't pleasant by any means, but it was bearable so long as I didn't think too hard about what was happening, which was easier the long it went on. As the minutes ticked by, my vision grew fuzzy, and my thoughts slowed and difficult to grasp. I was vaguely aware that it was probably due to blood loss, but frankly I was almost relieved as the pain began to lessen.

It wasn't long before I felt my knees wobble, my head beginning to sink down to rest upon Marco's supportive shoulder, my eyes fluttering closed. I was feeling quite literally drained, and suddenly all I wanted to do was sleep.

"(Y/n)?" Marco's voice called to me.

"Hm?" I murmured in response.

"I'm done, we're going to take you home now, okay?"

"Okay."

"Can she walk?" Jean's voice sounded from somewhere far away.

"Yeah." I replied in more of a sigh than anything.

I tried to lift my head off of its resting place on Marco's shoulder, but at this point it was far too heavy to move, despite feeling as though it was filled with cotton, my eyes glued shut.

Marco let out a sigh beneath me, one arm moving to my back and the other behind my knees. "Alright, up you go." He said shortly before I was hoisted into the air, cradled into his chest, carrying me to Jean's car and settling down in be back seat with me in his lap. I wanted to be disgruntled about it, but I didn't have the energy.

"(Y/n)?" Marco's hushed voice came from over the sound of the car humming to life.

"Mm?"

"Thank you for what you did for me"

I lifted my lips in what was supposed to be a smile. "Any time, just so long as sometimes you come just to hang out and not drink my blood."

I could feel Marco's laugh reverberating in his chest, "It's a deal."

I tried I say something else, but I could feel my consciousness already slipping away, though just before everything went black, I could have sworn I felt Marco's lips press against my forehead, murmuring something soft before letting his head come to rest on top of mine.

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this for a friend a while back, and thought maybe some other individuals would enjoy reading it as well.
> 
> It was originally meant to be a one-shot, but I could be convinced to continue it as a series of anyone has any interest.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
